


Mop

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Comeplay, Established Relationship, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 07:35:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4011259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pippin ruins and fixes things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mop

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Lord of the Rings or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Finishing inside Pippin is always a joy. They’ve been together, passionately and exclusively, for long enough that Pippin can ride him raw, the little tease often joking that if Merry keeps this up, Pippin will wind up with a litter in his belly, though of course, that can’t happen. Merry can claim his wriggling cousin all he likes, and the only thing that ever comes of it is Pippin smelling of him and walking stiffly in the mornings, sometimes pouncing him down to return the favour. 

Tonight they’re in the armchair by the hearth, fire blazing, Pippin facing out while Merry pumps him full. Pippin bounces up all on his own, heedless of Merry’s bucking hips, his shrill voice breaking as he arches forward and Merry digs into his shoulder. Merry’s teeth spread around Pippin’s skin to stifle his roar, all his love rushing forward. Pippin’s body clenches around him, milking out every last drop he has to offer. 

And then Pippin’s slumping, falling back against him, his weight heavy now that it’s not being thrown off every half-second. He’s sweaty and sticky, like Merry, neither of them in any clothes. Merry wants to wrap his arms around Pippin’s middle and use him for an upright pillow, but there’s no strength for it. Merry’s fists are still locked tight around Pippin’s wrist, holding still. 

He turns his face into the crook of Pippin’s neck, and Pippin mumbles, “Oops.”

“Oops?” Curious, Merry glances over Pippin’s shoulder, his chin hooking against Pippin’s collarbone. He sees what it is right away—a white, sticky streak across his hardwood floor. His first instinct is to scowl, even though he knows it isn’t really _Pippin’s_ fault—not with Merry holding his wrists back and making him helpless. Still, he could’ve waited to come until his hands were surrendered. Merry can’t help but half-whine, half-scold, “You _always_ make a mess when you come over!”

“You started it,” Pippin quips back, which is hardly true at all. Pippin starts all their trouble, or at least, puts the idea in Merry’s head. Fidgeting more in Merry’s lap to shorten Merry’s breath, Pippin insists, “It doesn’t matter; I’ll clean it up.”

Just as stubborn, Merry grunts, “I’m not letting go of you. You’ll just wreck more things.”

Clenching his thighs around Merry’s lap, Pippin lifts up. His plump rear pulls away from Merry’s fat cock, sliding out with its own juices around it. Pippin gasps, but Merry’s groan is louder. He wasn’t ready to let go, not yet. He holds Pippin’s hands captive all the tighter. 

Pippin doesn’t seem to mind. He grips onto Merry with his knees and pitches suddenly forward, his arms held taut but rotating. Merry’s the one that lets out a worried squawk, not wanting Pippin’s face to hit the floor. 

Fortunately, Merry’s grip holds him just short of that. Bent double, Pippin makes a slurping sound, and Merry has to shift sideways around him to see. 

He’s licking his own seed off the floor. Merry’s eyes go wide as Pippin’s pink tongue swipes greedily over the polished wood, catching the salty liquid to pull back into his mouth. He doesn’t seem bothered by where it’s been. His lashes are lowered, cheeks flushed but no more than usual after sex, lips spread wide to catch his own release. Partially in surprise and partially to let him do _more_ , Merry lets go of Pippin’s wrists.

Pippin just brings his hands down to steady himself against the floor, scooting forward in Merry’s lap so that his rear is on display, spread wide around Merry’s knees. His hole’s still open from where Merry took him, dilating slightly with cum dribbling out of it, down over his tight balls and along his creamy thighs. Merry doesn’t know where to look; there, or the white gobs clinging to Pippin’s lips. 

Pippin’s rear starts to wiggle. He must be doing it on purpose. His round ass cheeks bounce from his own movement, spine arched. He’s still heartily going at it: the picture of debauchery. By the time Pippin’s finished licking Merry’s floor clean, Merry’s breathing hard and his cock’s stirred again. 

Pippin clumsily pushes back up to sit in Merry’s lap. He looks over his shoulder, grinning wickedly with his own seed smeared across his lips, and he asks in feigned innocence, “Want me to clean your lap up, too?”

It’s moments like these that Merry’s immensely grateful for Brandybuck stamina. He gives his answer by way of picking Pippin up by the hips and slamming his squirming cousin back down onto his cock, already starting up again.


End file.
